A weary traveler

The fish sizzled over the open fire. It had been along time sine Talathel had eaten fish. The Rift Lake? He couldn't remember. The days, weeks, months...had it been years, all blended together. Some days he ate. More days he did not. Each day he had wandered.

He did not own much. His bundle was light. He foraged for food. Over the years, he had developed somewhat of a talent of catching small game. He could fish a bit. In towns, he was not above rummaging through trash to find food. When he was really desperate, he would steal, though it pained him to do so. Every time he stole, he could feel his search for Koldael becoming longer and longer.

In an attempt to shorten it, he had sold most of his possessions in Mulptan. His journey across the Long Road had indeed been long. Desperate for food, he sold all that he could part with. Since then, Talathel had often slept out under the stars, eating what food he could find.

At some point in his journey, Talathel had decided that he should like to see the Moonshae Isles again. As he journeyed westward, the chance to glimpse home one last time became his goal. Koldael was perhaps beyond him. He stayed on the main roads, sometimes following in with crowds. He preached some of the Old Order, which sometimes got him food. Eventually, he ended up in Candle's Keep. He set up camp on the coast, where he had the fortune of catching the fish.

The sun rose, and he looked out onto the Sea of Swords. He spotted a solitary ship in the distance. He trained his eyes on it. It came closer to the shore, and...could it be? The front of the ship looked so familiar. The paint...the look of it. Was it The Lady Narath?

Talathel felt his spirit rise a bit. There might be some life in him yet. The Lady Narath appeared to be heading towards Baldur's Gate. Of course it was. All of Faerun to explore, and why wouldn't his friends be in Baldur's Gate.

Talathel gathered up his pack and his staff and headed out for the city. He'd find his friends again, and go adventuring.